Hawksong(moon/lady)

jamie_winchester

jamie_winchester

Cluster
Joined
Nov 30, 2010
Catalina- Cat to most people- Santana looked around the archery room as she stepped inside. Her own recoil bow held lightly in her hand as she looked around her, turning her head slightly towards the sound of a bow being drawn back. Even if she couldn’t see him, she knew hawkeye had spotted her, and was somewhere in the room. Raising her hands and holding the bow out away from her, making it obvious she wasn’t a danger to him, she swallowed. “Agent barton?I’m Catalina Santana.”She said introducing herself, though they’d told her he was back to normal, and no longer compromised, she also knew he’d lost his partner, and had no interest in startling a man as good as this assassin with her appearance when he was guilt and grief ridden.

Tall, nearly as tall as Clint himself, the woman was a picture of lithe slender beauty. Her chocolate brown hair was cut to frame her face, slightly longer in the front then in the back, though not like natasha’s had been, more like she’d grown her bangs out to hide features to beautiful to pass unnoticed in a crowd. Which was what she had wanted, a easier way to pass unnoticed for a few moments. Her skin was a bronzy tan, that spoke of islands and sand, but it was her voice that spoke of the northern steppes, of Russia. While her and Natasha had very little in common in appearance, and Catalina was easily 3 years younger than both master assassins, the woman spoke English the same way Natasha did, with a slight accent of Russia mingled, though Catalina’s wasn’t as strong as natasha’s had been, she’d left as a child, long before it had left its scars on her soul. But the home she had found, had left its own marks.

“…hawkeye?”She said after a moment eyes searching the dim lighted room, sounding slightly curious to see if she was wrong. Maybe her senses were wrong, and he wasn’t in the room with her.
 
Clint was miserable, and trying to hide it. he couldn't beleive that he had gotten Natasha killed. he couldn't beleive that she was dead and gone and wouldn't be coming back. he had been the light of his life for so long... no they hadn't been a couple, they had tried but they where a little too similar for that to work. she had been his little sister, his family, and now she was gone because he hadn't protected her. he pulled his string back again and again, releasing 'empty' arrows again and again into the massive array of moving targets. some as small as a quarter, some that moved as fast as a car, a combination of sizes, speeds, and colors. Clint had designed this for himself, and Natasha had loved it just as much as him. now she couldn't enjoy the new addition... a Loki head added just so that Clint could see how many times he could shoot the bastard in the face.

he pulled back his bow again and paused as he heard a voice call out into the darkness. yes, Catalina Santana. Fury had told him he wanted her to be trained. Clint wanted to hate Fury for that, because he'd trained Natasha too, and she'd died because he hadn't trained her well enough. he studied her from the shadows, head cocked to the side. she knew he was here, she'd heard him, good hearing, but her instincts, and her senses were not well trained. she was tall, but not muscled enough, she had skills, but was still too green. he doubted this girl had ever even seen a battle, let alone a war. finally he slid through the room, hidden from her eyes and on steps so light even a cat couldn't hear him, he stepped behind her.

"you need to work on your other senses. eyes and hearing are not everything." he warned her. "your sense of touch, and awareness could easily have realized where i was, long before i moved... we'll work on that." his voice was emotionless, blank, his face the same, but his eyes where filled with a deep pain that only one who had lost his entire world could have. "you are an Archer, and an Archer cannot always rely on sight. in fact, more often than not, you will be as blind as a bat, trying to find your prey." he turned away from her for a moment and moved into the room again. "this is the archery room. where you will learn to hone your aim and your senses of space and distance." he hit a button and went into the room and started yanking out his arrows once all the targets had stopped moving. everything was dead center. "you will try, so i can see how much talent you really have. Fury's letting his 'talent hunting' slip a little low these days."
 
Catalina turned her head slightly at the sound of his approach, finding him as soon as he moved, soft brown hair falling into her eyes as she looked over her shoulder to look at him frowning slightly as she studied the man. She wanted to get angry with him for the words, but she knew it was rifght. She knew she had a lot to learn, and even as good as she was, Fury had sent her to work with her, to work with the best of the best.

Looking at the room around her she raised her bow, so similar to his, though the thing was a little more slender, and lighter then his, made for a woman’s hand. Though not nearly as well muscled as him, she had stayed in shape to just be able to pull the bow back. Raising it, she cocked the arrow, her fingers brushing her cheek as she turned a ltitle, watching the target move for a moment, unlike Natasha who favored hand to hand or guns, the woman was using his weapon of choice, and looked beautiful and talented doing it. Letting the string go she stayed tense and ready as she watched the arrow’s progress, lowering the bow just as the arrow hit, though not a perfect dead center on ‘loki’s’ forehead, she had managed to put one through his eye. “I think I like this room…”She muttered looking around her.
 
Clint just stared at her, as if daring her to comment. when she didn't, he motioned for her to continue. he watched her put an arrow through Loki's eyes and felt a tingle of delight, not because she had good aim, but because imagining hurting Loki always made him tingle. "you have one minute." he stated. "starting from the time i say Green, tot eh moment i say Red. once i say Green you will immidiatly attempt to hit as many targets as possible, as close tot he center as you can get. this will give be a good picture of how well you work while under duress or stress. are you ready? is your quiver full? then you start in three, two, one, Green." he watched arrows thudding into the targets, his head cocked to the side. still emotionless, not a sign of what he was thinking. she needed more practice, she was very good. Fury was right to have recruited her, but she still needed a lot of training. "Three, Two, One. Red!" he called out at the minute mark and popped the button and examined the targets to see how well she'd done.

"we're going to have a lot of work. your arm get's tired too easily, and that's when your aim starts to lag. we'll work on endurance, muscle memory, and strength. of course you like this room, it's my room, focus please." he ordered simply. "we will work on sensory deprivation as well, which will increase specific intended senses. since you, as most are, are so dependent on your eyesight, that is what we will work on first." he decided. "you have your room already set up? i want to see you here again in an hour. bring every weapon you own for examination. if you have weak weapons, they will be replaced. i will teach you more than just archery, because sometimes Arrows run out, and sometimes you need something a little closer." he admitted simply before shooing her off and sighing. he really didn't want to have to deal with this crap. training some Russian girl with a Spanish name... training a girl period. he really wanted to strangle fury. he shot holes in Loki's face instead. when the girl returned, he indicated that she should lay out all her weapons on the bench so he could examine them properly.
 
Catalina was quiet as she listened to his instructions, quietly agreeing to the shoot out, quickly shooting, but he was right. The longer she shot, the more she lagged, though not huge, she was starting to miss direct hits. Stopping when he said she panted ever so slightly as she looked up at him. Frowning slightly as she listened to his words, not that she didn’t agree with him that she needed the training, it was just annoying that after so long at working on it, she still had awhile to go. Running a hand through her short hair she sighed, nodding.”I do.”She said wondering what they were going to do before nodding as she walked out. Knowing that he didn’t want to do this, figuring it was easier to be quiet, do what he wanted, and just get away from him as soon as she could, because he didn’t want her here.

When she returned she was wearing a shoulder harass for knives along with the quiver for her arrows, sliding out the knives she laid the short sword on the bench, along with the two black well balanced hunting knives, a couple of throwing knives, and a small handbow that could be fired with one hand. Watching him examine things she looked around the room, already taking in everything around her, her fingers twitching slightly each time her eyes hit a target, as if she was imagining pulling back a bowstring to fire. And she was. Or as he examined the knives her fingers curled around a imaginary knife hilt, imaging getting in close and personal. Quiet as she pretended to fight the targets, but not totally spacing out, just waiting for him to finish. Not wanting to burden him more then she already was. Having seen up close and personal how much pain the man was in, and having heard about his partner, she had no desire to make things worse then fury already had.
 
Clint watched the irritation and felt rather smug. he loved pissing people off. she didn't react otherwise though, she jut stayed quiet... meek... not a good personality for this kind of work, he'd have to find a way to work on that. he wished he didn't have to train this slip of a girl, he missed Natasha and that Russian accent made him want to cry. he closed himself deeper into the emotionless void that he'd been in since her death, not wanting to feel anything so he wouldn't hurt. he watched the girl as she came in, trying to keep himself as distant from her as he could. he was a bit worried about how twitchy she was before realizing that she just wanted to keep practicing. good. that would make training her a bit easier. she was eager to learn, he could push her harder and faster this way. he ran his fingers over each weapon, lifting an eyebrow. all state of the art, high standard. "these are good weapons. but we're going to add long range, and short range guns to your arsenal as well. you might not carry them, but if you run out of weapons, you can pick up a gun from fallen enemies or allies." he admitted simply, handing her the throwing knives. "show me your skill." he ordered, watching the knives thud into the targets before nodding.

"not that bad. i've seen worse." he admitted, a grudging almost compliment. "we will work on that as well. come with me. we'll test your hand to hand skills." he ordered, leading the way out of the room. "don't worry about your things, no one goes in there, and if they did, they wouldn't dare touch anything in there." because he would gut them... and he had once. some pathetic snot nosed green horn who was only there because of his daddy's connections had thought Clint needed to be 'taken down a peg'. he'd broken Clint's arrows... Clint had broken him. no one messed with Clint's crap again. Clint was not the one who gave her the hand to hand test, nor the short sword skills. instead another man did that, planting her on her ass time and time again before finally letting her up and giving Clint the report, Clint didn't need it, he had seen her skills... they would have to work on that... god he was tired. he just wanted to go crawl into bed and forget life existed.
 
By the time she was through with the hand to hand the woman was feeling bruised and battered,not only in dbody but her pride. She'd been so proud of herself,though she had known she needed to still work on her skill, she hadn't realized just how far behind she really was. Not realizing that while clint and the trainer were srill above her in skills, she was still a far step over moat people. Cupping a hand under her nose as she tilted her head back she winced feeling the blood draining down the back of her throat, the last blow having managed to bloody her nose. Shooting a glance sideways at the assasin watching her she sighed. Anniyance and anger in the look,expecting anything but praise.

"You don't want to work with me,which is fine, I don't want to work with a man who's going to hate me for something I can't change. But we're stuck,nd we're going to at least learn how to work together. I refuse to be miserable learning from the best teacher s.h.I.e.l.d has to offer."she said sounding angry and defensive,howing just how much learning to be better meant to her, even if it meant dealing with a man she knew would rather not even have another partner. Making a face she sighed,gesturing for him to say something."okay. Now that I've gotten that off my xhest,go ahead and tell me how horrible I am."she said expecting him to try and convince her she was so bad that she'd give up trying to bexome a full active agent.
 
Clint stared at her for a long moment and then. "don't lean your head back. you'll swallow the blood, it's bad for you. lean your head forward, let the blood drain out onto the floor, this is a Dojo, it's used to having blood stains. pinch the bridge of you're hose where the firmer bones are, this will close off the capillaries and stop the bleeding." he ordered, completely ignoring her comment on him hating her. "and i'm not the best Shield has to offer, that is a lie they tell you to make you feel special." he stated simply. "you have a long way to go, in comparison to people like me and Frank, but you are far above what most of the 'grunts' of shield have to offer." he stated simply. "where you just a normal Shield Agent, you would already be done with training, as you are above standard for the idiots and the cannon fodder." foot soldiers basically. "you, however, are not a normal operative. you are a Shield Specialist, and therefor you will be trained high above the standard." he stated glancing at the trainer Frank, who was looking amused. "stop smiling at me Frank before i rip your spine out." the smile vanished. "right now, you are sore, tired, and grumpy. good, it means that you understand that your place, as of right now, is at the bottom." amusement flashed through Clint's eyes. "fortunately for you, that does not mean that you have to fetch coffee, and run paperwork. that's what the grunts are for."

he spun on his heal and moved over to the pads, glancing at her. "i will now show you what you will be capable of, once your training is finished." Frank groaned, took a deep breath, steeled himself... and got a beat down. "once you can beat Frank, i will know that i can let you loose onto the world and not have to worry about you dying a stupid death." he stepped over frank who was laying on the ground and groaning. "quit being a baby Frank." Frank just groaned. "Drama Queen." Clint muttered and Frank groaned again. "tomorrow, you will receive a schedule. you will follow this schedule to the letter. if you are late, miss something, or don't show up, i will hunt you down, and drag you there, and you will be severely punished." he leaned forward, his face inches from hers. "and you do not want to be punished. the only way you get out of training is if i am on a mission..." here he grumbled something she probobly wasn't meant to hear. not that i'm going to get to go on any with me being 'messed up'. "or if you are too injured or too sick to train. in the case of THAT happening, you had BEST be in the hospital ward." he warned her. "now. go take a hot bath, bitch about my unfair attitude to people who might give a damn, and be to the Archery Range at seven in the morning, on the dot, or earlier. understood?"
 
Catalina swallowed hard as she leaned her head forward pinching her nose, letting out a slight huffing sigh as her nose stopped bleeding, before snorting, wincing a little at the motion that made her nose hurt.”You’re the best archer shield has to offer.”She corrected rolling her eyes a little because she wasn’t feeling special in any way at the moment before looking pleased at the idea she was okay. While not where she needed to be, or wanted to be, she wasn’t hopeless. Looking amused as she realized he did indeed have a sense of humor, even if it was hidden under grief she smiled. “Oh good. I hate coffee and paperwork, its good to have others for that.”She mused leaning back onto her hands as she watched them fight before nodding at his words. “I’m sure you’d be the most unpleasant person to come looking for me. Don’t worry. I’ll be where ever I’m told to be.”she said though she did pale slightly, but didn’t jerk her head back, flushing slightly as her mind took a detour into the gutter as she considered what kind of punishment he could do to her before wincing slightly at his muttered words, remembering why fury wanted her with him.

While CLint would have usually gotten a trainee after someone else had done the basics and gotten things started, he would have gone over the archery and weapons, but he was training her in everything, helping her refine everything she already knew. Which meant that fury had a legitimate excuse to not putting him back on active duty until he could have a partner who’d watch his back. That was what fury wanted, not him to watch out for her, but for her to make sure that he didn’t get himself killed. Not that she’d confirm the suspicion for him if he’d even thought about it. “I’m sure I can find someone to bitch to. See you in the morning clint.”Catalina said smiling slightly as she stiffly walked out of the training room, not because she was angry, but because she was sore.

In the morning Clint found her in the archery room even before he showed up, her soft brown hair in short braids tight to her head, the strands barely long enough to braid, but braided so it’d stay out of her way, and while she wasn’t using the archery room for what it was supposed to be used for, she was using it to dance. Well…sort of. She was doing a ballerina’s form warm up, finding that the yoga stretches and tight ballerina moves could work well when paired with a bow, or simple hand to hand combat moves. Cracking a eye as she pivoted on her toe she pretended to be holding a bow before lowering her arms as hse sensed him walking into the room, and even if her senses weren’t as honed as his, she was aware of people getting closer to her. “Good morning.”She said moving to stand still, looking flushed and ready to work.
 
Clint didn't physically react to her joke, though there was a flash of amusement in his eyes at her comment of hating coffee. "no, unfortunately Fury is the most unpleasant person to have to get you." Clint commented tonelessly and Frank groaned. "doubly so because of his ugly face." Frank stated with a snicker as Clint blinked at him. "shut up frank." "shutting." Frank muttered, scowling at Clint, who just blinked back at the trainer without any hint of his emotions. it made Frank shudder and get to his feet. he followed Catalina out the door and muttered an apology to her about clint but offered no explanations... he knew she didn't need it. everyone knew that Clint had lost everything. everyone was being careful of him these days, because he wasn't known for being... nice, even when he wasn't completely devastated. everyone offered her condolences when they noticed how stiff she was, they had all been there, and done that. the first day beat down. even Fury had gone through it when he was a trainee. it built character apparently.

in the morning, Clint was watching her intently as he moved into the room. "continue." he ordered when she paused. "i haven't had my coffee yet and don't desire to see your face until i do." but his tone fell flat. he wasn't angry at her, and he knew she'd know it. he sounded tired, he sounded... defeated. which meant he'd dreamed of Natasha again last night. and while the girl looked, sounded, acted nothing like Natasha, training her as he had trained his best freind hurt. he watched Catalina dance across the room, putting dance moves into fighting styles... he had to admit, he was impressed. that was not something someone could teach, not effectively. one had to have a natural style for it, had to know what they where doing in both fighting and in dance. "Bring your shoulder up." he commented suddenly as she pretended to pull another bow. "it will give you more power." he watched her continue. "be careful of where you plant your feet. you must always be aware of your surroundings. battle is always accompanied by rubble, and shrapnel, a misplaced step can result in broken bones, or having something shoved through your foot." there was a pause and then. "you have a natural talent for such a style." he admitted suddenly. offering no apology for his harsh words earlier. "it's rare to see dance incorporated into a proper fighting technique, but when employed properly, you will have a fighting style that no one can copy, and that few can defend against."
 
“Oh, you’re pleasant in the morning. Why don’t you go get coffee so your fit to be with?”She said sounding snarky, but her tone gentle, not angry. Just like she knew he wasn’t angry with him, she was willing to not question him about how he was, even if he knew she knew he hadn’t slept well. Everyone knew clint barton didn’t sleep well anymore. But unlike some of the others, she was willing to overlook it unless it became unbearable. Not cowardice or meekness in not wanting to piss him off, but because she had to work with him, she’d rather have a relationship they could work together in, which meant finding middle ground.

Shrugging a little as she went back to her workout she closed her eyes as she danced, jumping slightly as he spoke, and it was lucky she wasn’t using a actual bow cause he might of gotten himself shot if she’d been holding a bow. Following his direction without comment she shuddered a little at the idea of getting something in her foot. “Now that’s a mental image. Definitely going to be keeping a look out on my feet.”She muttered before shrugging as she continued to work out. “My mother was with the Russian ballet before she married my father, I learned early to dance, and as I got older my father taught me to fight. I learned quickly, that it was easy to blur the line between dance and fighting.”She said smiling as she stopped, panting ever so slightly before moving over next to him to the small kitchenette to get a glass of water..
 
he ignored her snarky reply, but had to admit he was glad she hadn't taken it to heart. she seamed to not really care about him, which made working with her easier. because while she wanted to please him, she didn't care one wit about how he was feeling, which made it easier to stay focused on training her, instead of the gaping hole where his heart and soul used to be. "Russian Ballet?" he asked, curious despite himself. Natasha had loved the Russian Ballet. he had to swallow thickly against the onslaught of emotions that brought up. "in any case." he stated, brushing that thought off quickly, not wanting to think about the Ballet that Natasha had forced him to. something about dancing snow or something.... "as you get better, you will find yourself able to take in everything all at once, the litter on the floor, the enemies coming at you, where your allies are, where the civilians are, where you can shoot and where an arrow might cause an explosion." he stated simply. "you have the endurance needed for a short length fight, but some fights can last for hours, even days." he informed her as he poured himself another cup of black sludge that was apparently supposed to be coffee. thankfully, Natasha had hated Coffee, so it held no memories of her other than her scolding him for drinking 'that crap' and trying to get him to drink the dark black tea she favored instead. he brushed that memory off as well and gulped down the cup, ignoring, and in fact enjoying, the way it burned as it slid down his throat.

"right then." he muttered with a choked cough as he handed her the schedual.

6:00-morning habits.
6:30-breakfast
7:00-endurance training, outdoor track
9:00-sensory training, Archery room.
10:00-medatative exercises, Archery room
10:30-free time, do whatever the hell you want.
11:00-12:00 Lunch.
12:00-archery practice, archery room
1:00- strength training, weights room
2:00-hand to hand training, testing room.
4:00- end of training, do whatever the hell you want so long as you go to bed at a decent hour so i don't have to drag your ass out of bed in the morning.

...even his schedules had the scathing commentary.

"once you get into 'the groove' of things, we will be adding, or dismissing things from your schedule. for example, i would suggest you spend at least an hour every day staying in practice with your dancing forms. you might even consider finding a school around here so you can stay in the practice." he muttered. "i don't know jack shit about dancing, so your mostly on your own there. i can only give you a few pointers here and there." he admitted. "now. on to the rest of your endurance training." he smirked at her. "we're going to run. until 8:45. which is another hour and a half away. move it rookie!" and just as he promised, he made her run, not jog, run. all the while he ran in front of her... backwards, shouting the occasional order or encouragement. if she didn't hate him yet, she sure as hell would by the end of the day.
 
“Uh-huh. Before she moved to Spain.”She said in a off handed way that said she wasn’t really paying attention to him, but focusing on what she was doing. Shuddering a little at the idea of a fight lasting all day. Looking amused though as she looked at him drinking the coffee she made a face, but didn’t comment, because while she hated the crap, she didn’t care what anyone else drank either. Taking the schedule from him she snickered a little as she read, raising her eyebrows as she looked up at him. “Scathing even in writing. It’s a good thing I don’t mind some a snark-fest.”she said snickering before nodding.”I’ll look into finding a school. Though you might consider coming with me for one class, maybe you’ll see something I miss that I can use.”She said shrugging before starting to run.

By the time they finished running she was panting, tired and spitting mad as she stopped next to the assassin as he stopped running, sweeping out a leg to catch his, not surprised as the move didn’t send him tumbling to the floor, figuring he knew she’d lash out at the man she was starting to hate as much as he amused her. “Savok. Govnosos. Hooyesos.Zhri govno I zdohni.Bastardo.Capullo.”She snarled tiredly, panting as she recovered from running, well at least he knew she had a handle on languages when she traveled. At least the cuss words for them.

Panting she glared at the assassin next to her before snarling obscene names at him still under her breath as they headed inside. well, at least he wasn't going to have to worry about her being to meek to tell him to go fuck himself.

(Translation:Asshole. Shit sucker. Dick sucker. Eat shit and die.Bastard. Asshole.)
 
he just blinked at her, not at all caring that she didn't like his writing style. "i am not stepping foot into a Ballet studio ever again." he stated, his tone shockingly ice cold. "you will have to fend for yourself." because he wanted nothing to do with anything that Natasha had once loved, because it hurt far, far too much. he couldn't help but smirk as he stepped over her foot, lifting an eyebrow at her. "well then. obviously your not that tired." he commented. "come along. we have more work to do." he stated as he led the way inside, completely ignoring her verbal tirade. everyone he ever trained did that eventually. it had taken Natasha a month to work up the guts to call him 'you sadistic fuckhead!'... it had only taken Frank an hour to call him 'fucking psychotic shit eating bastard!'.

"now we will work on your senses." he stated holding up something. a black blindfold. "this is, obviously, a blindfold. it will completely cut off all visual stimuli, leaving you literally, blind. you will wear it for an hour." he explained, handing it to her. "this, is a training bow." he smirked as he handed what looked like a completely normal bow with... Styrofoam arrows. they had wooden shafts, and normal fetching, but the tips where soft and covered in a blue powder. "while you are blindfolded, i will be moving about the room. if you manage to hit me, you will get a half an hour reprieve from running tomorrow. you'll still have to run, but only for an hour and ten minutes, instead of an hour and forty." he stated with a smirk. "but that's only IF, you can hit me. put on the blindfold." he ordered. once he was certain the blindfold and quiver was properly in place, he moved out of her 'immediate awareness' zone. which was the distance that she could 'feel' him. he had to admit, it was a very impressive level awareness that most people did not have without extensive training... or extensively abused childhoods.
 
Catalina raised a eyebrow at the blind fold before eyes widening a little at the fake bow. “Now that’s either a compliment thinking I can hit you with a real bow, or you don’t want me shooting myself in the foot with one.”She mused only because she wasn’t certain she was going to be able to do this even as she tied the blindfold in place. And she frowned in concentration as she ‘heard’ him, while she didn’t suffer from the childhood traumas or the training he’d gone through, her childhood had been rough after her mother died, and it had left her more aware then most of the things around her, but not enough to keep track of a man who was moving lightly on his feet around the room.

Cursing as she quickly ran through arrows without one finding a mark, though she had come close a few times, “You are sadistic do you know that?You might want to seek help.”She said panting turning her head this way and that, trying to get a sense of the man around her, and even without arrows she held the bow defensively in front of her, as if expecting him to attack her in hand to hand simply because she was blind and he wanted to see how aware she was. While she wasn't nearly as brave as some of the others in dealing with him, she also knew he didn't need coddled over Natasha's death, he'd hate it. having dealt with men like him before-though, he was in his own league- she wasn't going to treat him any different, at least until she figured out how to do so without getting him pissed and making working together intolerable. as of now, they were uncomfortable, but not horribly so.
 
Clint snorted. "i'm less concerned about you shooting yourself in the foot than i am you shooting your own eye out." he stated simply. he was impressed with how close some of those arrows had gotten though. that one had very nearly grazed him. an inch tot he left, and she'd have nicked him in the hip. "why yes, i did know that, but thank you for the compliment. your out of arrows did you know? so very easy to kill now." he pointed out. "helpless. you should never be without a way to defend yourself. you did at least, keep hold of your bow. you can always gather arrows from the fallen, or weapons from the fallen. you also didn't drop any arrows, which is a damn sight better than the last two morons i had to train." he admitted, still walking around her. "can you beleive one of them actually did manage to shoot himself in the foot?" distracting her. "enemies will sometimes do, exactly what they do in the movies. monolog. where they go on, and on, and never shut up. this, is a useful little period in time where you can start to plan your escape, or your defense.... have you prepared yourself while i have been talking? no, i don't think you have."

and with that, something struck her in the thigh. it didn't hurt, it wasn't heavy or sharp or hard, it just bopped her in the leg and he was suddenly THERE, in her zone of awareness, more than that, he was THERE, next to her, so close she could FEEL his clothes brushing hers, and then he was gone again. "too slow. you've been crippled. focus. it's not just your hearing! you can feel me when i move, the wind will shift. you can smell me, smell where my scent is when the breeze changes. you can hear me, hear my clothes shifting. stop panicking. you can't see, but you can still do other things. you are not helpless, you have a weapon, you always have a weapon. your hands are deadly, your teeth are deadly, your feet are deadly. defend yourself, don't let me get close." he ordered, giving her a moment to calm herself, to FOCUS and then he was there, in her awareness Zone again, this time the thing, whatever it was, hitting her in the forehead. but even if she reacted, he was out of the way before she could even start to swing. and so it continued, him attacking her, her trying to defend, and at the end of the hour, caught her swing and tugged her blindfold off, showing that the lights had been dimmed considerably so that she wouldn't hurt her eyes when the blindfold came off. "well... at least you didn't shoot yourself in the foot."
 
“Never helpless. Bow string can act like a garrote if you tried. Or a blunt set of brass knuckes.”She mused even as she turned her head, letting her body follow it around, trying to keep track of him, not only by the sound of his voice, but where she could ‘feel’ him. “Now that, I can believe. Morons.”She muttered under her voice trying to stay focused, her voice sounding off, not really thinking about talking to him before reeling back as the man smacked her with whatever it was, despite having been trying to prepare, she hadn’t been. Cursing as she scrambled back another step already lashing out with the bow, but again, to slow to get near him.

By the end of the hour she paused, swallowing hard as she stood still, blinking slowly wincing even in the dim light. “but I didn’t do great either.”She said in response to his comment looking annoyed with herself, much like him, she held herself to a standard that most mere mortals would fail at. Remembering her schedule she flicked her fingers towards one of the corners. “Now I’m going to go over there and mediate on how I’m going to cause you some bodily and embarrassing harm and relax. Unless you have some other plans for your mediation time in the schedule?”She asked already moving to sit on the floor, looking comfortable and at ease despite being annoyed with herself for failing so spectacularly, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to do anything but follow his schedule and know that she’d get better with time.
 
Clint didn't bother to hide the smirk at her response, she couldn't see it. "i don't know what a Garrote is, but i think it doesn't matter much." he admitted simply. once he removed her blindfold, he revealed what he'd been batting her with, one of the practice arrows. she had blue chalk all over her now, and he looked the closest to laughing he'd been in months. "no, you didn't do great, but then, you've never fought blind before, now have you?" he asked with sly, sadistic little grin. "go for it. meditate on whatever the hell you want. it's a cool down period where you can think about whatever you want." he admitted, waving her off to meditate. "later on i might give you specific things to meditate on." he admitted. "for now, just meditate on the training and about how you want to kick my ass." he ordered. "after that your free to go until noon." he admitted as he settled into his own corner and started his own meditation. he stayed meditating as a tiny little chime went off, letting her know that she was free to go if she wanted. lunch wouldn't start for another half an hour so this would give her the chance to do whatever the hell she wanted. read a book, write a letter, so long as she left Clint alone.

he was in the lunch room for once, which seamed to startle most people as he sat in a dark little corner and poked at his food. he was probobly not going to eat, but he glared violently at anyone stupid enough to try and sit with him. only Fury was allowed to approach Clint... and that was only because he ignored Clint's furious Glares. after lunch was more practice, where Clint corrected only a few slight grip issues on Catalina's bow stance and then indicated for her to shoot at a single target, working on her aim until she could hit the target dead center one hundred percent of the time. then he dragged her to the weights room where he made her lift weights until every inch of her body ached. then it was to the testing room where he showed her more stances, kicks, and punches to add to her fighting inventory. it was clear that as time went on, his temper got worse and worse. but he was controlling himself, fighting not to take his pain out on her... the poor bastard who interrupted a half an hour into the hand to hand training was not so lucky. Clit's verbal tirade left Frank nearly in tears, but he was a tough man and sent Clint out of the building and continued Cat's training himself. "you'll have to forgive Clint..." Frank stated softly. "it's hard for him right now... Fury's being a bit of a bastard, making Clint train you when the pain is so intense for him right now. but... despite his... tongue, he really is the best at what he does... you want to bring your other fist up a bit... there you go. he trained me you know, Clint did. best damn man to train a person there. he knows when to push you, and when to praise you. when to insult your intelligence so you get all pissed off, and when to back off and let you have your temper tantrum." he blushed violently. "i don't think he'll ever let me forget the time i shot myself in the foot..."
 
Clint looked startled having just been riding the man’s mood as they trained, though the fury that was coming through the punches was getting that much worse the more higher clint’s temper soured, responding to the man even if she wasn’t really aware of it, before shrugging a little as she worked with frank.”I came into this training knowing it was going to be hard.”She said shifting, adjusting her fist even as they worked, not about to admit fury gave her the assignment not just at her own request to be trained, but because he needed clint to have a partner to watch his back, and by assigning him someone instead of picking someone himself, fury had known the man would be hating him, instead of himself. Eyes widening at frank’s admittance she snickered. “Oh!So that was you. He told me about that.”She said smiling a little before nodding, stepping back as the hour ended, panting and out of breath, aching but pleased with her first day. “Thanks frank….I’ll try to remember that its not his fault his head’s a mess.”She said sighing softly, because while she knew it, she had a feeling clint was going to push her so hard that she was going to forget it at times. “Goodnight.”She said waving goodbye to the man as she made her way out. Having every intention of relaxing that evening, and getting a good night’s rest, and start it all over again in the morning.

“I hear your training the new archer?”Tony Stark said his usual narcissist amusement in his voice, though there was a thread of concern under it. while the man was still the arrogant ass that he had always been, with forming the avengers, clint had been accepted into the rare few people that tony actually cared for. And as such he was cursing fury for being a bastard and forcing clint to train a Russian woman in the same way he had once trained Natasha. Having come to check on the man as soon as he heard, just wanting to know how he was doing, and hoping the girl was strong enough to deal with clint.
 
Frank chuckled a little, flushing brilliantly. "well i'd never held a bow and Arrow before and... well it hurt dammit!" he complained, pouting. "the thing went through my foot! they had to cut it off at the shaft so they could slide my foot free. the entire time they where doing this i was screaming and crying like some sniveling brat!" he complained, sharing his story so she wouldn't feel so bad. "granted... i WAS a sniveling brat..." he muttered, shaking his head. "his head is a mess... i don't think he's even grieved yet." he admitted with a sigh. "i'm a bit worried about him... he's shutting down and i don't know how much longer he can last." this was said more to himself than to her, but it showed just how much Frank did care about Clint.

Clint paused as he heard Tony. he had been living with Tony since the attack that had killed Natasha. he couldn't bring himself to go home, because she had lived with him, she had lived there... and her evidence was all over the place. "yeah. she's not bad. needs a lot of work." Clint admitted, his voice listless and dull because Tony wouldn't rat him out. Tony wouldn't care, Clint could trust Tony not to chastise him for being depressed. "i nearly tore Frank's head off though..." he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "i couldn't... contain myself at the end..." he admitted looking at Tony. because Tony wouldn't blame him for not saving Natasha, and wouldn't force him to move back home where SHE had lived. "where's the captain tonight?" Steve was avoiding Stark Tower after Clint nearly killed the spangled idiot for trying to take away his alcohol.
 
“I’ll take care of him Frank…”Catalina said smiling slightly because she knew it was going to be hard, because clint wasn’t going to let her, but she would. Because she wanted to, and because she knew it was coming, the man needed to grieve, and deal with the emotional side of losing not just his work partner, but his best friend.

Tony nodded a little,”Well, you’re good at getting idiots to survive their training, I’m sure she’ll be fine.”He said smirking, his eyebrows going up a little.”Is she as pretty as they say?”focusing on what he really cared about, besides his friend. Because he knew clint wouldn’t want him to ask about how he was handling it, so he was going to ask what everyone expected him to care about, just about how to get the new girl into bed. “Avoiding you since you nearly killed him for taking the alcohol..”Tony said simply shrugging a little because he knew clint would have figured it out if he lied before sighing softly. “I have a date tonight. You want company?”he asked, willing to stay in for once if Clint wanted him to, but also willing to leave him alone if he wanted him to. Like catalina, the man had learned to bend to what clint wanted him to do, because he wanted clint to stay here, because he was afraid that if he pushed, that the man would leave.
 
Clint snorted a little at Tony. "i don't know, i didn't notice." he admitted, frowning as he tried to remember... WAS she pretty? he supposed it didn't matter, it wasn't like she was going to be meeting Tony anytime soon. he finally just shrugged. "ah. well tell him i'm sorry will you? i was already pretty drunk." he admitted, fidgeting a little. people had always made him nervous, and without Natasha acting as a buffer, even people he liked made him skittish and nervous. like a wild animal. "no, i'm just going to sleep." Clint stated, waving Tony off. "maybe smoke a few cigarettes in the bath." he muttered, well aware that Tony hated it when he smoked inside and had even gone so far as to install very specific air systems to keep the smoke from 'infecting' the other rooms. he didn't smoke, or have a bath, he just collapsed into bed and cried himself to sleep.

and that was what happened for the next three days. he trained Catalina with Frank's assistance when being near her grew to be too painful. today was a rather good day, he'd had a good dream for once, about Natasha still, but she'd been smiling and happy... instead of dying in one of the many, many ways a person could die. he stretched as he stepped, barefoot into the training room and studied Frank, who was stitching a punching bag back together with a needle the size of his forefinger, and twine. "we're going to spar." he informed Catalina. "i know frank has been teaching you some things, lets see you put them into practice."
 
Catalina had gotten used to not reacting when clint needed to take a break,just shrugging it off because she knew if she said something, he'd take her concern for him the wrong way. But she was worried about him, even as she tried not to be, she found that clint barton,despite being a sadistic sarcastic bastard, was easy to care about. Which she figured was driving his friends insane, because he wouldn't let them close enough to help him. Startling a little as he approached she toed off her boots as she stepped onto the mats with him, having not realized for once that he was there. Though no where near his level, she'd developed a awareness for where he was,if only because she'd learned he was liable to surprise attack her if she wasn't paying attention.

"If I beat you do I get to not run in the morning?"she asked optimistically as she raised her hands, defensive and watching him, waiting to see how he'd react to her, wanting to gauge just how serious to do this. While she knew that she had no chance of beating him, the words were said in a offhand manner that said she knew talking could distract a oppenant even if she was paying more attention to them then the words exchanged.

Slipping easily into the dance steps frank had been helping her refine into hand to hand combat she moved in, having every intention of hitting him hard. If she couldn't beat him, she was at least going to make sure he felt as sore as she did at the end of the day.
 
he had to admit, he was impressed with how well the girl took his moodiness. she didn't even bat an eye yesterday when he called her a 'good for nothing brat with illusions of adequacy'. she just ignored him and continued doing what she had been doing, which made his anger deflate like a popped balloon. it was no fun insulting someone who didn't get angry. he could see the flashes of worry in her eyes, and that pissed him off. what right did she had to be worried about him? what right did anyone have to worry about him? he pushed the feelings away, as he always did and focused on what he was doing.

"...egotistical aren't you?" he asked, sounding slightly amused. "there's no way you can beat me at your level, but for every hit you land on me, and i mean a real hit, i'll take five minutes off your run time." he promised, well aware she was probobly not going to land a whole lot of hits on him. he slid with her movements, striking back, blocking her blows. he was more careful, more playful this time, taunting her almost. he never noticed when she stopped being Cat, and turned into Natasha, her smiling, wicked eyes taunting him into getting more serious. he grabbed her arm and twisted, expecting that Natasha would twist with him, not against him and he felt fear, ice cold gut wrenching terror flood him as he heard the snap of something... he'd broken her arm? yanked her arm out of it's socket? snapped a ligament or a muscle? "Fuck Natasha!" Clint gasped, shocked as he knelt over the girl, looking confused as Frank started to curse. "Nat?" he asked, looking down at the girl, looking confused, lost as he realized... this wasn't Natasha. he went pale, like someone had poured white paint into him as he stared at her. "...N... Nat?" he backed away, looking utterly horrified as he swallowed thickly. "oh my god... what... what did..." he turned and fled as Frank hovered over Catalina examining her arm. "i don't think it's broken. let's get you to the hospital." he muttered softly, biting his lip, worried about Clint, but it was Catalina who was the most hurt right now, and he had to see to her before he could see to the emotionally compromised Clint.
 
"Nope. Just sure you suck that much."catalina smirked bwcause she knew it was a lie. He was going to kick her ass but at least she was just brushing the taunts away even as she perked up at the idea of shaving time off her run. She hated running. And while they sparred she enjoyed herself,lipping easily into the playful fighting before her punches grew more serious as she realized he was getting serious,having to work harder to keep up with him but not realizing that something was seriously wrong until he grabbed her arm and twisted. And while she did twist with him,it wasn't enough to keep him from dislocating her shoulser with a snap.hitting her knees are the same time she lashed out with her other hand at him, nailing him in the thigh with a punch instead of the groin like she'd intended,to blind with pain to aim well. Not even really aware of him leaving,ursing as frank examined her shoulder."he dislocated it. Go after him. I'm perfectly capable of getting to the hospital wing."she said stumbling to her feet,and even blind with pain she knew clint needed looking after more then she did."go. I'll call one of the other trainees in the gym."she said already making her way to the phone to call for help getting downstairs.

And indeed clint had just managed to pull her arm out of socket,and after a excruciating hour of getting it back in place, and promising every form of death she coule think of onto her missing teacher the woman was heading back to her own rooms,with a detour to through the building to see if she could find clint. Despite being drugged she needed to tell him she'd be okay. Because she knew he'd need to hear it from her and not just second hand from every gossip in the place who'd figured out what had happened as she screamed at the missing teacher in russian as they'd put her shoulder back into place.
 
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